Jeffrey's Longer Shorts by Geoffrey Crees

Author:Geoffrey Crees
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Anthology, tales, fiction, short story, collection, entertaining, amusing, Christian, religion, light-hearted, unexpected, surprising
ISBN: 9780722348031
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited 2017
Published: 2017-11-20T00:00:00+00:00

Edie’s New Bus Pass

“New bus pass, is it?” enquired Ada as they waited in the biting wind at her stop, trying to get what shelter they could amongst the other would-be passengers, most of whom appeared grumpy, especially as the No. 31 appeared to be late.

“I’ve been waiting twenty minutes,” said a disgruntled voice at the back.

“Me too,” said another.

“Go on, Edie,” persisted Ada, wanting as much to pass the time as to see Edie’s mugshot. “That’s incredible,” she cried so loudly that half of the would-be passengers appeared to forget the cold and crowded round to look.

“If I may say, you look years younger! Where did you get it done? Did you go to one of those photo booths? I never did trust them. I had to get a passport done once and it seemed as if I was sitting in a public loo - a very public one!”

Edie responded, “My grandson did it for me. He is supposed to be studying photography, but I can’t understand why he wants a degree in that. You can apparently get a degree in anything these days. I expect they will have one for tea making next!”

“Or waiting for buses,” cried a frustrated voice at the back.

Nevertheless the No. 31 did arrive in the end and the passengers clambered on board. The driver looked at the new pass as Edie tried to zap it on the scanner, but nothing happened. The driver, a good-humoured chap, looked slightly puzzled, and the queue waiting behind began to express their feelings.

“No good,” said the driver, “you’ll have to pay.”

“But I’m eighty-two,” replied Edie.

“Sorry, love,” replied the driver.

Now, one thing Edie disliked was being called ‘love’, even if she used the expression herself from time to time.

“I’ve no cash,” she cried.

“OK, Edie, here’s the money,” said Ada, and before long they were seated on the lower deck all the other passengers were on board.

“Funny that,” said Edie after they had drawn breath.

“Funny that,” replied Ada. She had a habit of repeating other people’s comments after them.

Edie appreciated her kindness, but ignored her. ‘Why, why?’ she thought. Was her new pass invalid? What explanation was possible? Wrong photo? Wrong number? She did, however, get the chance to quiz the driver when they got to the bus station.

“Sorry, love.” It was those words again. “You will ’ave to go back to the council.”

“The council,” mumbled Edie.

She was someone who always had a love–hate relationship with authority. On the one hand she relied on the pension she received as her husband had had a good job with his local council. On the whole she found officials very unhelpful when it came to filling in potholes in her road.

“Not like in my Edmund’s day,” she would shout. “He would have men out here damn quick sharp and no mistake.”

The urban council official at the receiving end

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